Duty-Bound [ Lore of Penrua: Book II ]

2

Silence descended, and all eyes turned toward Matei, who had been called Koreti once. Back when he had been presumed a legitimate son of the emperor, a legitimate heir to the throne. Back when he had been a prince. Back when he would have been content to be such a leader, divorced by rank and glory from the people who depended on him. 

The shock of the words had pierced Matei's breast like a spike of ice, and he let the shock, the dread, settle around his shoulders like a leaden mantle before speaking.

It took a moment, but no one else broke the silence first. "Kaori, be reasonable."

"I am being reasonable," Kaori said. "I have considered this at length, and it is the only logical course of action. You must wear the crown."

Matei looked around the room. Aun's face was pale with surprise, but a smile was twitching at the corners of her lips; she was doing her best to remain composed, he could tell, but she seemed pleased. Mhera's expression was impassive; he could not tell what she was thinking. If she was shocked, she hid it well. Eovin, for his part, looked pensive and serious. It beggared belief—could he possibly be considering the ludicrous suggestion?

"The only logical—Brother, you must be joking." Matei laughed in disbelief. "I barely escaped the executioner's block with my head. The Starborn believe I am responsible for the death of their emperor and for a thousand worse crimes. They will never trust me. They don't know me—"

"But the Arcborn do." This was from Aun. Aun was of Hanpe, where women were equal to men and there was little differentiation in class and rank; she was unabashed at speaking out of turn. She continued, "The rebels and our sympathizers have followed you for years, Matei, and they will follow you still. They trust you. They love you. And if this is truly the day of our freedom, they would honor you as their emperor."

Matei turned his glance to Eovin, beginning to feel desperate. "Eovin, please. If we are to choose a ruler, it must be you. We cannot fail to recall that you are descended in an unbroken line from the Blessed Sovereigns themselves. Your lineage may have been obfuscated by history, but you are royalty...my lord."

The lorekeeper was obviously taken aback. He shook his head. "I was not raised to be a king, Matei. I am a dusty, ink-stained scholar; my life's work is to keep the history of our people. I was not made for the throne. If you claim I should be emperor because of my bloodline, well, my son: it is your bloodline, too."

Before Matei could react to Eovin's words—my son—Kaori broke in. "Besides, you tie the old world and the new together. You were the golden prince of our people as a child, and you led the rebellion as a man. It must be you."

Matei rose, his hands clenched into sweating fists. He had suspected he would not like what Kaori had called him here to discuss, but he had expected Kaori to lay firm claim to the throne, to begin to define his terms for negotiation with the Arcborn. He could never have guessed what the elder prince would demand. "I ruled nothing. I guided the rebellion as part of a council of leaders, Kaori. I wore no crown. Once, when I was young and stupid, I wanted that crown. Now? Now I do not want it!"

"No sane man would, Brother, but it is yours." Kaori reached out with his remaining hand and picked up the crown that lay on a velvet cushion at his side. He held it for a moment, gazing down at the golden circlet with an expression Matei could not read. Then, he held it out to Matei as if it were no more significant than a children's story-book.

Matei looked at the crown. He knew, perhaps as no other man living knew, how dangerous such a thing could be. He turned to Mhera, who had been silent until now. "Mhera, be the voice of reason. Tell him he's mad."

But Mhera only shook her head. "He's not mad, Matei. I can feel it. Remember? You were crowned by the holy light." She had lived for years as a holy woman, a Daughter of Zanara, at the Haven. Her eyes were still as cool and gray as the saltwater spray, and while Matei saw sympathy in them, it was no comfort to him. Nor were her words.